


One Knock and a Coffee Later

by AGeekCalledTLC



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2019-05-18 17:43:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14857266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AGeekCalledTLC/pseuds/AGeekCalledTLC
Summary: Brienne is currently a university student studying journalism. Life has never been the easiest but as it starts looking up, an unwanted knock on her door at 3am turns her life upside down. Will it be for better or worse?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So I've been browsing around AO3 for a good many years now, always the reader and never the writer. I've tried my hand at writing fanfiction in the past but haven't published my work in a real long time (and never to this website) - let's call it a constant case of writer's block and not enough confidence. I've had a sudden urge to post one of my works however and thought why not? What have I got to loose, right?
> 
> So this is something that I started over a year ago and unfortunately, like everything else, let it grow dust until I suddenly had inspiration to continue. I'm a big Game of Thrones fan - I've rewatched the show time and time again over the years, however I'm only just working my way through the books. I read the first book back in 2012 (just before I started the show) and fell in love, but for some reason didn't continue reading the rest. I'm now finally resolving this and boy am I loving every minute. This is my first ever GoT fanfic which I've decided to proceed with. Three chapters have already been written and I'm part-way through the fourth. I'm only posting the first chapter for now however, to test the waters as it were and if you demand more, I'll give you more!
> 
> I don't own GoT or anything related to it, that would be George R R Martin. I've only pre-read the chapter myself, so apologies if there are any errors I haven't spotted. Comments and constructive criticism are more than welcome - please be gentle though, it's my first time (ish). So without further ado...
> 
> _Prompt: Accidentally knocked on the wrong dorm room college au._

There's something tranquil in getting a decent night's sleep, falling into the mind's subconscious, into a place which drifts you away from the cruel reality of the world. A place where you feel comfort, safety, relaxation; a place where it seems that no one can or would dare disturb you...until of course someone does. Brienne was under the spell of a deep, dreamless sleep and had felt like she had only just given into the temptations of the Sandman when she was cruelly awoken by a loud thumping sound. Groggily regaining consciousness, she blinked back into reality to realise the sound was coming from her door. Peering at her alarm clock, she could just make out the digital numbers on its face: 03:10 – she'd been asleep two hours. Groaning inwardly, she pulled the duvet over her head, hoping that if she ignored them, the unwanted stranger would leave her in peace. No such luck.

_Bang. Bang. Bang._

“Are you kidding me?” she muttered, pushing back the duvet and throwing her legs over the side of the bed as she sat up slowly. Whoever it was, they surely seemed persistent as the knocking continued.

“Alright, I'm coming!” she yelled, finally mustering the strength to stand up and stumble her way towards the door, stubbing her toe as another bout of knocks vibrated around the room.

“Margaery, if this is you, I swear to-” she warns, only to stop abruptly as she swings the door open and finds that it is not her annoyingly bubbly friend on the other side – in fact, the person isn't female at all, but a remarkably handsome man instead. Staring, mouth agape, she deduces that handsome may not cut the god-like creature standing before her, what with his chin-length, gleaming blonde hair, emerald green eyes and toned, muscular build. It was clearly obvious however that despite his good looks, he was quite noticeably drunk. Swaying on the spot, his glazed over eyes take in the dishevelled appearance of the room's occupant.

“Gods...are you a woman?”

The haziness in her sleep-deprived brain quickly gives way to anger – who does this stranger think he is? Turning up at her dorm room unannounced at an obscene hour, drunk as a skunk no less, only to humiliate her when she finally answers; any other student would have rightly ignored the idiot who tried to come between them and sleep.

“I beg your pardon?” she snapped, eyes and nostrils flaring with each passing second. “Who are you and more importantly, what the hell are you doing at my door at gone three in the morning?”

“I'm looking for Bronn,” he slurred. “Is he here? He didn't tell me he had a new squeeze...although I must say, you're not his usual type – he prefers them much more feminine.”

Brienne's blood boiled furiously as she tried to summon the strength to answer without punching the guy, breaking his jaw and creating a flaw on his perfectly structured face.

“Bronn doesn't live here so I suggest you leave before I call campus security,” she replied through gritted teeth.

“This is 307, is it not?”

“It is.”

“Of Sunspear Hall?”

“Wrong, this is Evenfall Hall. Sunspear is the building to the right.”

“Ah! Apologies, I may have made a slight mistake in my drunken state.”

“You don't say? I trust you now know the way?”

“I do, in which case I'll...my, you are tall for a woman, aren't you?” he stated, trailing off his original thought. “A great lumbering beast.” Brienne responded by slamming the door in his face. A thump and a yelp told her his nose probably caught the brunt of her anger.

“Serves you right!” she muttered, making her way back to the security of her own bed.

“Fare thee well, wench, I feel sure we'll meet again,” he hollered before sauntering off in search of the correct room.

“Gods I hope not,” she grumbled, pulling the duvet over her head once more, hoping to find peace in that serene slumber she craved so much; it didn't come for another hour.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne encounters a sober Jaime...but is he that different to drunk Jaime? Oh, and make way for Tormund.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back & so soon! I want to give a big thanks to all of those who gave reviews and kudos to chapter 1, it meant a great deal and encouraged me to update a bit sooner than I originally anticipated.
> 
> So this chapter takes place the following day, where Brienne has the unfortunate luck of bumping into that blonde, handsome jerk again. Tormund is also introduced. Now just to note that in this fic, there is going to be no hating of the ginger Wildling (unless it's by Jaime himself) - in fact, he is Brienne's best friend. I actually really love Tormund as a character but I know not all Braime shippers have the same opinion. If you're not a lover of his character and was hoping for Brienne knocking him into the dust from the get go, then I'm afraid you're in the wrong place. I think Brienne being in a friendship with Tormund is something I'm going to enjoy experimenting with. There may be some friction between the two as the story goes on/as her and Jaime get closer and Jaime is certainly not going to be a fan, but ultimately I am pro-Tormund. I don't have a full plan of where this story is going to go, primarily it's just going to be free-form, but remember this is a Braime story, so please be friendly where Tormund is concerned.
> 
> As always, I am not George R R Martin and therefore own nothing. Apologies for any typos/errors. Also warning for very slight swearing.
> 
> Kudos and comments are more than welcome!

* * *

 

The next morning - or more accurately, later that day – Brienne made her way to her first lecture, feet nearly tripping over her laces at the great speed she was running. With a minute to spare, she burst through the auditorium door, gaining several pointed looks in her direction. Ignoring the unwanted attention, she carefully glanced around for the familiar mop of bright ginger hair.

“Brienne! Hey, Brienne! Over here!” came the booming voice of her best friend, Tormund. She turned toward the bellows, noticing him waving frantically, with that big goofy smile that was kept only for her. Not to make more of a spectacle of herself, she quickly ran up the steps and into the seat her friend had dutifully saved for her.

“Cutting it fine, aren't ya Brie?”

“I'm here, aren't I?” she panted, trying to regain her breath.

“Y'know, ya seem incredibly unfit for such an athletic, healthy person,” Tormund teased.

“You try getting ready in two minutes after sleeping through your alarm and racing here to make it in time!” she retorted, Tormund chuckling in response.

“Wild night?” he asked suggestively, wriggling his eyebrows. Breinne scoffed.

“Hardly. Unless of course you count some drunken pretty boy hammering on my door at stupid o'clock because he went to the wrong room.”

“Sounds like the most action ye've had in a while,” he joked. “Ouch!”

“You're lucky I put up with you,” she muttered, her eyes shining with mock anger as she watched Tormund cradle the arm that she had punched a moment previously. “He's hardly my type – the guy looked like he walked straight out of a GQ Magazine photoshoot.”

“Aren't guys usually smoking hot to appear in a magazine like that?”

“Ridiculously so.”

“Well I hope you don't start questioning my sexuality, but he isn't yer type because?”

“Where he makes up in looks, he seems to lack in personality; after waking me, he also had the audacity to insult me.”

“Was it the drink talking?”

“Is it ever where I'm concerned?” she asked, giving him a pointed look. “He did seem wasted, however something tells me he's an asshole on a regular basis.”

“Did ya get a punch in at least?”

“No...my door connected with his face though,” she announced proudly with a smirk, earning a bark of laughter from her friend.

“That'a girl!” At that moment, the room's noisiness dulled to a quiet chatter, then eventual silence as their professor entered and the lecture began.

* * *

 By the time the lecture had ended, Brienne was very much ready to return to her bed. Knowing it was impossible due to having two other lectures later that day however, she decided coffee was her next best option. Throwing an arm around her waist, Tormund steered her in the direction of Walda's Coffee, knowing exactly what she sought. Under normal circumstances, Brienne wouldn't usually be a 'touchy feely' person, preferring to keep herself at safe distance from others. If being mocked all her life taught her anything, it was to safeguard herself and her heart.

Two days into starting university, she first crossed paths with Tormund Giantsbane. She almost laughed in his face when he told her his surname, not quite believing him, however ancient northern houses (in the far north) had a tendency to give such names based on local legends and folklore. He quite literally bumped into her while on her way to the Freshers Fair, her size and stature prevented it from phasing her in the slightest. One look at her and Tormund was smitten, that wide smile plastering his face at once and he told her then and there that she was beautiful. Thinking of it as a cruel joke, Brienne pushed him aside and stormed off. It took two weeks for him to befriend her and that's exactly what they had become, entering the friend zone and nothing else. As much as he had hoped for more, Tormund was grateful for her trust and valued her friendship more than any other, just as she did his.

Two months on and it was if they had known one another for a lifetime, so much so that he could tell the signs of her wanting a caffeine fix from a mile off. Luck certainly didn't seem to be on her side however when she caught a glance of a six-foot figure of pure manliness accompanied with bouncy blonde, chin-length hair.

“Oh shit!” she whispered frantically, immediately stopping in her tracks like a deer caught in headlights.

“What?”

“That's him!”

“Who?”

“The Lord of Light...” she hissed, rolling her eyes at her friend's clear stupidity. “Who do you think Tormund? The moron from this morning!”

“Where?” he asked, turning in the direction Brienne was clearly glaring in. “Him? Brie, don't ya know who that is?!” She turned to give her friend a pointed look as he chuckled at her ignorance.

“Evidently not genius,” she quipped, pushing him in front of her and trying to duck behind his bulky form. “Now keep moving before he spots us.”

“That's Jai...”

“Wench!” _Too late_ , she thought, peeking from behind Tormund's shoulder to find the smug face of that darned pretty boy smirking at her from across the way, arms in the air. Groaning in frustration, she stood at her friend's side once more, shoulders straight and chin pointing outright, unwilling to show any weakness in front of this new thorn in her side as he made his way toward her. “Well, well. I must say, I didn't think I would see your towering form again so soon.”

“You and me both,” she muttered, never once turning away as he looked her up and down, his gaze finally resting on her face.

“My, but you're even uglier in daylight aren't you?” he japed as he took in her homely features, her face hardening at his harsh words.

“Hey! Ya watch yer mouth, boy!” Tormund snapped, wrapping his arm back around Brienne's waist protectively.

“Or what, Wildling? You'll show me who's boss?”

“Ya can bet your arrogant arse I will!”

“Don't Tormund, he's not even worth it.” Brienne put herself in between the two men, placing her hands on Tormund's chest to stop him from moving any closer, before turning back to her handsome tormentor. “Besides, I can fight my own battles.”

“Now that I know,” Tormund barked as he indicated to the bump on the nose that the other man now sported. “Nice nose pretty boy, run along before she gives ya two black eyes.”

“I don't doubt that this beast of a woman's fists are as hard as the door that she previously ploughed into my face.” Although he was currently the butt of the joke, the stranger was still clearly amused.

“I'm well aware of my unfortunate looks Mister...Whomever-You-Are. What I'm surprised at is how you are aware of absolutely anything passed that enormous ego of yours?”

“So she has a sense of humour behind this stony exterior? Bravo wench! If I didn't know any better, I would say you owned balls of steel in those tight jeans of yours.” His gaze turned back to Tormund's annoyed one. “I'm willing to bet she wears the trousers in this unnatural relationship.”

A growl started to erupt from the back of Tormund's throat as Brienne's grip on him tightened. “It's more than your face that you should be worried about. Now move out of my way before I demonstrate how hard my fists really are.”

“Is that a promise, wench?”

“You can count on it.” With that, Brienne stormed in the direction of the coffee shop, her tight grip now holding onto the sleeve of Tormund's jacket as she dragged him behind her.

“She owns more balls than ya ever will, mate!” Tormund shouted as they left their tormentor standing in the middle of campus.

Jaime Lannister looked on as he watched the unlikely pair walk further away. “I have a feeling things are going to get interesting from here on out,” he muttered to himself, a smirk still playing on his lips.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne has a much needed coffee and Tormund clues her into who the arrogant blonde guy actually is. Prepare for banter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So all you readers are freakin' amazing! Thank you so much for all the love, it's very much appreciated. I wasn't really sure if people would take to the whole Brienne/Tormund friendship, so I was more than thrilled to see those of you who are on board.
> 
> This chapter follows on from where we left off. Unfortunately there's no Jaime, but there is a lot of talk about him and we get an insight to Brienne and Tormund's friendship. There's quite a bit of banter and you get to see a little bit of Tormund's softer side at the beginning. Beware however, there's a little bit of potty mouth...from both of them.
> 
> Game of Thrones is not mine unfortunately (although I wish it was). Apologies in advance if there's any typos.
> 
> Kudos and reviews are most welcome!

* * *

 

Twenty minutes and a large coffee later, Brienne was feeling slightly more calmed after the incident with the male blonde bombshell. Tormund eyed her - part with caution, part with suspicion and part with amusement. He was unsure if she had calmed down enough that she wouldn't fly off the handle after the slightest remark about what had just occurred.

“Ya okay Brie?” She pointed him with an annoyed glare. “What? It's a genuine question that friends ask one another in a time of...need.”

“I'm fine Tor,” she huffed. “It's nothing I haven't encountered before, I've dealt with my fair share of arseholes.”

After a moment of silence, Tormund recalled something from their earlier altercation with their new found friend.

“Why do ya do that?”

“You've lost me, do what? Deal with arseholes?”

“Put yerself down all the time.” Confusion filtered across Brienne's features.

“I...”

“Earlier, when that douchebag insulted ya, ya just nodded and agreed as ya always do.”

“What...”

“' _I'm well aware of my unfortunate looks Mister Whomever-You-Are_ ,'” Tormund imitated. “People comment on yer appearance negatively, pretty regularly I may add and ya act like it's nothing. Sure, I know better and it effects ya more than ya let on, but ya just carry on while ya agree with ever damn word they say.”

Brienne sighed at the old tune that Tormund continued to sing.“There's no point in denying what's point blank Tormund.”

“Yer wrong Brie, ya refuse to see what I see.”

“Tor...”

“No! Yer gorgeous Brie, ya just...”

“Can we just forget it?” she snapped, a pleading look in her eyes that after a frustrated sigh, he let the discussion go. “So you said you knew the annoying blonde beanpole?”

“Yer about the only person who doesn't,” he chuckled. “That 'annoying blonde beanpole', as ya so elegantly call him, is Jaime Lannister. Heir to LMC.”

“As in the Lannister Media Corporation?” she asked, mouth agape. “The most highly paid, successful media corporation in the world?”

“The very same, my clueless friend.” An unopened packet of sugar flew across the table, hitting him in the middle of his forehead. “It astounds me that as a media student, ya had no fucking idea.”

“My degree doesn't include me memorising family trees of the rich and arrogant, Tormund.” His booming laughter filled the coffee shop, making several heads turn in their direction.

“Well yer right about one thing lass, he certainly is an arrogant twat from the way I hear it.”

“Shock horror, I discovered that less than twelve hours ago funnily enough. So what's his story?”

“Well his father is obviously a power-hungry skinflint who lives to preserve his money and legacy. Him on the other hand apparently loves to be disobedient and has major papa issues.”

“Typical rich boy persona. So he's a walking cliché?”

“Pretty much, but that ain't half of it.”

“What more? He a regular bad boy?” she scoffed. Tormund looked at her sceptically.

“Not in the conventional sense, no. Are ya telling me ye never heard of the Aerys Targaryen scandal that happened here a couple of years ago?”

Brienne thought back – although not a student at Kings Landing University at that time, she did of course recall the story hitting the news, which caused quite the stir about the learning establishment. Something that concerned a well known member of the Targaryen family – an old Westerosi-blood family, much like the Lannisters – who had also made their millions in the media business. Unlike the Lannisters however, who stuck their hands in all the media pies, the Targaryens strictly kept their business journalism based, mainly tabloid.

Aerys Targaryen P.h.D had been a known reporter for both the Kings Landing Times and Westeros Journal in his time (both had large shares owned by the Targaryens), later becoming a professor of journalism at KLU. He had made a name for himself for being a little...eccentric, and not in the quirky professor sense. What was most known about him however was his demise.

“Of course, wasn't he beat to a pulp by one of his students that put him into a severe coma, forcing his remaining family to pull the plug when they were told he wouldn't recover?”

“The very same.”

“I'm sure you're going to make a point some time soon Tormund.” Her red-haired friend gave her a look as though she had grown two heads.

“Are ya seriously so dense that yer not connecting the dots here Brie? Ouch!” he exclaimed after a swift kick landed right on his kneecap. “Sorry, but again, yer a student of journalism, come on!” Brienne continued to glare at her best friend but again thought back to the media circus that surrounded the Targaryen story and thought she remembered the Lannister name connected to it...then it clicked. Her wide-eyed stare told Tormund that she had come to the very obvious conclusion.

“You don't mean...”

“I do.”

“The annoying blonde beanpole...”

“Yep.”

“Of course, he's the student.”

“Aye, that he is.”

“Gods,” she gasped lowly, letting Tormund's reveal sink it. It was proving hard to believe that the glorious, golden stranger who had turned up at her door at an obscene hour was practically a murderer.

“That ain't all though,” Tormund continues. “There's also rumours that he's...involved with his own sister.” Brienne's eyes turned from wide to bulging.

“You've got to be joking? Tormund that's absurd.”

“Well that's the rumour.”

“You shouldn't always believe gossip that flies around campus.”

“Bit hard when it's all I hear, 'specially when it's from every other girl I bring home to...”

“I get the picture, thank you,” Brienne interrupts, gaining a snigger from the red head. “Well rumour or not, lets hope that's the last time we encounter him.”

“As much as ye'd like to believe that lass, something tells me ya ain't that lucky.” While continuing to glare at the Northerner, Brienne didn't realise just how true his words would surely be.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne seems to have a Jaime-shaped shadow and cannot shake him loose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Nervously enters the room.* Hi ya'all, long time no post. Before we start, I'd just like to say that I'm very sorry for the delay between chapters - unfortunately that little thing called life got in the way, along with that other little thing called writer's block. I've tried for an absolute age to try and get a hold of this chapter, but to no avail...until now. 
> 
> I'd just like to say a massive thank you to those who've given kudos & commented so far, they do mean the absolute world to me, so I hope I haven't scared you all off with my radio silence. 
> 
> So without further ado, I give you Chapter 4. I can't say that I will be able to update on a fairly regular basis (evidently), but I can say that I honestly will try when able, promise. :D
> 
> GoT is not mine (also, omg the wait is nearly over!). Please excuse any errors or typos. Kudos & comments are welcome.

* * *

 

KLU prided itself on not only being the most popular university that Westeros had to offer but also the biggest. With over fifty academic departments, ten separate campuses and too many to count students, Brienne hoped her chances of bumping into Jaime Lannister again were pretty slim. What she didn't take into consideration was although in his final year, he was in fact studying the same course; it also didn't help that karma wasn't quite on her side. Wherever she turned, there he seemed to be, mocking her with his witty mouth and that stupidly good-looking face.

Her next encounter with him after the 'outside the coffee shop' incident was three days later while pulling a late-nighter at the library, hoping to hit her 9 o'clock deadline the following morning. A large empty coffee cup sat forgotten while papers and books littered the table, surrounding the laptop that she tapped on almost viciously. Completely in the zone, Brienne didn't hear the footsteps that confidently made their way towards her.

“Wench!” bellowed Jaime, slamming a pile of books onto the hard surface of the table, making Brienne jump a mile. “Fancy seeing you here!” Heart rate returning almost back to normal, Brienne snapped her head up to glower at the unwanted intruder.

“Would you please keep you voice down?” she whispered furiously.

“Speak up, I can barely hear a word you're saying!” he loudly responded, gaining the attention of the few late night studiers sitting around them, along with a pointed glare from the stuffy, middle-aged librarian.

“That's because we're in the library, you moron!”

“You don't say?” he asked sarcastically, enjoying winding the blonde girl up far more than he should. “And there was me thinking I was at the bakery, no wonder I'm hungry.”

“ Well you better run along before you starve to death, wouldn't want you withering away and spoiling that chiselled figure now would we?”

“Ah, so you've been checking me out wench? How interesting.” He sat on the nearest chair eagerly, back to front so his chin rested on the back of it, while the grin of a Cheshire cat painted itself across his face as he noticed a blush starting from her neck and working its way up to her already blemished face. “Can't say I blame you to be honest.”

“Cocky much?”

“Oh I've got plenty of that,” he sniggered, the grin becoming wider if that was possible, while Brienne's blush became more pronounced.

“Those who feel the need to announce it to the world usually don't have that much to write home about.”

“Wanna bet?”

“I've learned not to trust good-looking men and their bets, Lannister” she retorted, seemingly closing off her facial expressions and trying to gain control of the way her body embarrassingly seemed to be betraying her.

“You're commenting on my looks again, wench. Careful or I may think that you're trying to flirt with me.”

“Not interested. Now do you mind? I have a deadline to meet in the morning. And the name is Brienne.” Jaime chuckled, still amused at how easy it was to push this girl's buttons.

“I'm sure it is. And don't mind me – you carry on, it'll be like I'm not even here.” She tried to carry on, hoping upon hope that blocking him out would end with him becoming utterly bored and disappearing as quickly as he had appeared. No such luck.

“What?!” she snapped as quietly as possible.

“What?” he asked with feigned ignorance, a hint of a smirk threatening to burst back across his face. “I'm just sitting her, quiet as a mouse, minding my business, like you asked.”

“So what's with the staring?”

“Well you never said anything about not looking.”

“You're distracting me from my work.”

“You're a student, learn to plough through the distractions.” She carried on, trying to take heed of his advice without admitting as such. “So what are you studying wench?” No response. “Wench?” Nothing. “Wench? Wench? Wenchy wench? Wench, wench, wench, wen...”

“Shut up!” she bellowed, once again disturbing their peers who glared at them from the surrounding tables.

“That's it!” came a yelp from behind them. Brienne turned to see the stalk-like librarian striding towards them. “You two, get out of my library!”

“But...”

“Out! The both of you, out of my library!” With not another word between them, they gathered up her books and left the building. If looks could kill, Jaime would be dead in a heartbeat.

“You are an utter arse, Lannister!”

“You'll get to know this wench, part of the Lannister package I'm afraid – blonde, rich and complete shitbags.”

“Well be one on someone else's time, I have an essay to write.”

“But...”

“Save it for someone who cares, Lannister!” she called out, striding passed and away from him as quickly as possible.

* * *

Back in her room, Brienne let out a breath, willing herself to calm down after the incident at the library. Setting up her laptop on her desk and taking her books out of her rucksack, she settled down to continue with her assignment when she noticed that one of her textbooks didn't seem to be anywhere in sight. No sooner had she made this discovery, there was a loud knock at her door and upon opening it, came face to face with the last person she wanted to see.

“Looking for something?” he asked smugly, waving her missing textbook in front of him.

“Son of a bitch,” she muttered exhaustedly, starting forward to snatch her book back but to no avail, for the Lannister snatched his arm back and hid the book behind his back.

“Uh, uh, uh. Not so fast wench.”

“Give that back Lannister, right now!”

“Or what?”

“Or I'll beat the ho...”

“Whatever you say wench. Now I want something in return before I just go handing this over.” Brienne stared at him warily.

“What?”

“Oh come now wench, don't look like I just asked you to sacrifice your cat or worse. An invitation inside will be payment enough.”

“I don't think so!” she shrieked.

“Oh please, I'm not going to endanger you, your innocent self is safe with me,” he patronised. “Besides, you ain't my type.” Brienne thought back to her conversation with Tormund days before and had a fair idea of what (or more specifically, who) Jaime's type may be but bit her tongue and kept that opinion to herself. She pondered over the idea for a moment – _how bad could it be_ , she asked herself. _Four other people live on this side of the corridor, I have pepper spray in my rucksack, I have campus security on speed dial and it's not like I don't know how to defend myself._ With all those points in mind, she widened the door and side-stepped to let him pass.

“That's the spirit! Now lets see what we have here.”

Not many people got passed the barrier of Brienne's dorm room (and those who got passed the barrier of her trust were even less), so to have some insulting moron whom she'd been acquainted with for less than a week barge his way into her personal space was more than she could take at that moment. Closing the door, she turned to find him already fondling with all manner of possessions, clearly not caring that there were certain boundaries you shouldn't cross and he trampled over all of them. Halfway taking books off her shelf and not slotting them back in all the way, jangling the wind chime hanging from her curtain rail and jumping excessively on the bed.

“What the hell are you doing?” she snapped as he picked up a tatty old teddy bear sitting on her pillow.

“N'awww and what be this wench?” he asked in a sweetly condescending voice.

“For an apparently educated individual Lannister, you ain't half lacking common knowledge.”

“There's that sense of humour again, I love it when it makes an appearance. What I also love is the fact that you brought your childhood teddy bear to university with you.” She snatched the bear out of his hands and threw it in the wardrobe, her typical blush starting to bloom on her cheeks and make it's way down her neck.

“As if I'm the only girl on campus who owns a stuffed animal,” she muttered as he made his way back over to the shelves, tinkering with the bits and bobs that sat on the shelf above the books.

“I can believe that you're not wench. I also can't believe that no matter how muscular and manly you are, you still have a womanly side after all,” he stated smugly as he picked up a fairly large seashell. “Look at all your knick knacks...”

“Put that down, right now!” she shouted suddenly, making Jaime jump slightly and looking at the shell in his hand. Looking back up at her, the smug grin returned to his face as he lightly threw it up into the air several times.

“What, this old thi...”

“I mean it, stop that right now!” She stormed to where he stood and quickly took the shell away from him and placing it carefully in a drawer on the opposite side of the room to her current tormentor. A troubled look settled on her face, notifying Jaime that she was serious and for a moment his arrogance faltered.

“I...I'm sorry wench, I didn't realise.”

“No well you wouldn't, would you? Condescending arse that you are!” And just like that the smugness returned, placing the strange moment to the back of his mind but not entirely forgetting.

“You really know how to pay a compliment wench.”

“No more than you do Lannister, and the name is Brienne!”

“And my name is Jaime but I don't hear you resorting to my first name. What's the matter? Can't get it through that thick cranium of yours?” Brienne's face, going from a rosy pink suddenly turned a deep red and practically purple in a matter of seconds, raging in anger.

“You have a great deal of nerve Lannister. What gives you the right to stand there and insult me in my own room?”

“I love living on the edge, nothing quite like it. And would you look at that, you're still calling me by my surname...wench.”

“At least it's part of your actual name and not some ridiculous nickname that was picked out of the blue. Now as much as I'm really – and by really, I mean not really - enjoying this conversation, could you please drag your smug arse out of that door? My deadline unfortunately still stands.”

“As much as you claim to dislike me wench, you seem to be paying far too much attention to my arse. That's the second time you've mentioned it in as many minutes.” Brienne rolled her eyes in clear frustration.

“That's the only thing you pay attention to? Really?”

“As self conceited as it sounds, I rather enjoy compliments about my rear end. I mean why wouldn't I? Look at it, it's a work of art.” Brienne's blush continued to rage on, turning shades she'd only ever seen on colour scheme wheels. Taking delight in her discomfort, Jaime chuckled. “You're too easy wench! If you wish to gain control over that god-awful blushing, you need to make yourself unreadable; don't wear your heart on your sleeve or you give people the power to do as they damn well please.” Something told her that he unintentionally gave her some lifelong advice and not just how to put a stopper on her awful blushes but she chose to ignore it.

“Seriously, can you not just leave me in peace to salvage my piss poor essay in the short amount of time I have left?”

“But I'm having so much fun! Besides, I may be able to help.”

“You? I'd rather doubt it.”

“You wound me wench,” he claimed sarcastically, clutching is heart in mock horror. “Of course I can help, we are studying the same course after all. I've most likely written about the same topic in the past.”

“I don't need help, I just need to be left alone.”

“Nonsense!” he exclaimed, throwing himself back onto the soft mattress of her bed. “Now what are we working on?” Jaime grabbed hold of what seemed to be a course booklet provided by her tutor and turned to the page that had a thin sticky note stating the following day's date hanging off it.

* * *

If somebody had told Brienne just a week before that an insanely good-looking rich guy would be invading her bedroom, she would have laughed in their face and her eyes would have rolled completely out of her head. Yet here they were, him sitting on her bed, sifting through her workbook and her standing as far away from his as possible, gaping like a fish.

“Ah, political journalism and judging by the markings, it looks like the history of it. Let me guess – the Blackfish's essay on the changes of political journalism throughout the ages?” He stopped reading enough to glance at the room's owner, to find her still staring at him. “Close your mouth wench, don't want you catching any rogue flies. So am I right?” Her eyes flashed in anger before she decided to dignify him with an answer.

“Yes, it is and that's Professor Tully to you.”

“Oh please, the old goat has been answering to that nickname for years. The only one who seems to be a prude about it is you.”

“Is there ever a moment in the day when you're not insulting people?” she snapped through gritted teeth. She was lucky to have any teeth left, the way she had been grating them together as of late, all due to one person.

“Of course, when I'm sleeping,” he answered smugly. “I remember trying to write this essay myself, it gave me more issues than normal.” For a moment, Brienne wondered what he meant – whether he was plain lazy or there was more to it – before he continued. “But the trick to cracking it is to hint at conspiracy?”

“Conspiracy?”

“That's what I said. Obviously concentrate on the typical political bollocks, load of old tosh in my opinion, but you start talking about conspiracy and journalists rebelling in order to get the dish on the at-the-time dirty goss and the Blackfish will lap that up like a dog would a bone.”

“I don't want to be that kind of journalist,” Brienne spat.

“Don't be a naïve wench, all journalists have to be _that kind of journalist_ at one point or another, just to get through their career. You don't always have to be but you have to be willing to cross the line.” _Just like you did with Aerys Targaryen you mean_ , she wanted to say but kept her mouth firmly shut. “Anyway, it's just a stupid essay, you're not ruining anyone's career just yet.”

“Do you not have any honour?” she asked as he abruptly stood up and walked over to where she was still standing.

“Well I guess that's for you to decide,” he retorted and turned toward the door.

“Wait, you're leaving?” she asked, strangely disappointed (only slightly).

“Just what you wanted, right?”

“Of course...but I thought you were going to help.”

“I did and now it's down to you,” he stated, that annoying grin once again gracing his face just as he opened the door. “Come now wench, I thought you had honour, I can't just write the damn thing for you.” And just as she was about to retort, he strode out the door and banged the door shut behind him, a muffled “night wench” left in his wake. She's not sure what she did to endure such an annoyance but she's now sure that said annoyance wouldn't be leaving her life anytime soon, so after the initial shock of his disruption wore off, she pulled herself together and continued with her essay. Suffice to say that she ended up earning A after she, although it pained her, heeded one Jaime Lannister's advice.

* * *

There was no where Brienne could go within the university or it's surroundings without her new shadow popping up like an unwanted Jack-In-A-Box: she'd go to the coffee shop for her usual caffeine fix, he'd somehow appear in the queue behind her; she'd go to the Student's Union for a catch-up with her small group of friends, he'd already be at the bar, waving manically at her; she'd go to the gym, he'd take the treadmill next to hers and goad her into a challenge, all the while trying to anger her with a new set of taunts; she'd go to the supermarket and somehow his trolly would end up smacking right into hers. It was frankly becoming exhausting, not knowing where the arrogant Lannister would show his face next, so relief was a pure understatement when the winter break was practically upon them and she was set to travel back to Tarth for the holiday once her last class of the term wrapped up. It also felt like a sense of security, knowing she could go to lecture and he wouldn't be there, considering they were in a completely different year group. It didn't stop her however from moaning about him to Tormund whenever she seemed to have a free moment from his presence.

“I swear, the beanpole has made it his mission in life to make mine a living hell,” Brienne complained to her ginger friend, as they waited for their lecturer to arrive and start the class. “I'm looking forward to going home, just for a moment of peace.”

“Knowing yer luck, he'll magically appear there as well, just to throw ya off,” Tormund joked, rubbing the spot on his arm that Brienne had just punched. “I'm gonna have to start wearing bubble wrap if ya continue to hit me the way ya are.”

“Don't make stupid comments and I wouldn't have to,” she retorted with half a smirk. “At least when I'm here, I know lectures are the one place he can't harass me.”

“I'm telling ya, don't jinx yerself...”

“And pray tell, how would someone in his final year manage to wangle himself in a first year's class?” And just as Tormund was about to list off any number of ways Jaime could do so, some realistic and some not, Professor Seaworth entered the room.

“Alright, that's enough,” he stated with polite authority. “The sooner we start, the sooner we can all bugger off for the holidays.” The class chuckled but soon quietened down. Brienne enjoyed Seaworth's classes – he seemed to have a wide amount of expertise in media and taught all manners of topics at the university. Her plan was to try and pick as many of his classes as her timetable would allow, knowing she would be able to learn hell of a lot, no matter what the subject. Before too long, the class was wrapping up and everyone was stuffing their belongings into their bags, ready to make a beeline for the door.

“Before you all run for the hills, I'd just like to make a quick announcement, which will be more of an introduction,” he declared to the already groaning students. “I know, I know, you're all wondering why I have to do this now rather than next term. The answer is simple: because I want to.” This earned a few titters from the class, Brienne and Tormund included. “Now I already recognise a few names from this class who have signed up for some of my modules next term, including 'Introduction to Film Journalism'.” He nodded in the direction of Brienne and Tormund, who smiled in return.

“If you are lucky enough to take them, you will notice a new face of sorts. No reason to be alarmed, it will just be one of my third year students acting as my Teaching Assistant. This will be something that will be up for grabs when you enter your final year, so do take note.” Brienne did – if not for Professor Seaworth, then hopefully for one of her other tutors, although at this point he would be her first choice. “He'll start off by just observing at the back, but he will be getting more involved later on, which will gradually morph into taking some of the afternoon seminars and even one or two lectures. He wanted to take this opportunity to introduce himself, although I'm sure some of you may already recognise him from campus.” Brienne felt a pit of dread in her stomach at this statement. _Surely not_ , she thought. “Please welcome my new TA...” _Don't let it be him._ “Mr Jaime Lannister.” _Dammit._ And there he was, striding into the room like a proud peacock, golden hair shining, emerald eyes sparkling and the air of pompousness uniquely radiating off him. As if on queue, his eyes scanned the room and finally landed on her. After a beat, his smug smirk turned into a predatory grin, teeth gleaming like that of a lion.

“Told ya not to jinx yerself,” Tormund muttered quietly out of the corner of his mouth.

“Thank you Davos, it'll be a pleasure to help out in your classes,” Jaime proclaimed to the room, his eyes once again finding Brienne's and if it was possible, his grin grew. “An immense pleasure.” If she could have, Brienne would have sunk into the nearest corners and shrivelled into herself until no-one noticed her. No such luck.

 


End file.
